


Coping Mechanism

by kurofu



Series: Writing Exercises [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Established Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, M/M, Swearing, Two Truths and A Lie, Voldemort needs to give his Inner Circle a break, as a coping mechanism, the Inner Circle does not like to see Harry going down onto Voldemort, the poor sods, they got too scarred from the image, theyre getting too old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 16:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurofu/pseuds/kurofu
Summary: Writing Exercise 3: Two Truths and a LieHarry Potter had just barged into the inner circle Death Eater meeting and made himself home on the Dark Lord's lap.This is how the inner circle cope with the scene.





	Coping Mechanism

Avery flopped onto the armchair. He ignored the dirty look Malfoy gave him at the sigh that escaped him when his sore backside met the comfortable plush seat. By Merlin, being an inner circle member of their Lord’s revolutionaries was so physically taxing. 

His lips stretched into a smirk before quickly masking the emotion. Malfoy himself had just released a relieved sigh when he sat. Nevermind that everyone else did the same the moment they entered Malfoy’s study. The inner circle was getting old, their bones were locking together whenever they kneeled for too long. Their own children were in their seventh year, nearly out of Hogwarts and into the working world. 

Malfoy withheld a sneer of disgust when Greyback practically threw himself into an armchair–-the frame groaning at the weight and the legs making a horrible screeching noise against the wooden floor. 

“Hey, Lucius,” Greyback leered, his large hands gesturing in a manner that made every pureblood cringe. “Bring out your best wine! Your alcohols! Firewhiskey! Dragon Scale! Maelbolge! Vodka! Your strongest!”

“I don’t listen to your demands, you _beast_.” Malfoy sneered, but did so anyway, summoning liquor from his hidden cabinet. Greyback barked out a guttural laugh at the poor insult, Avery knows he’d heard worse before. A house-elf appeared with tumblers for everyone, squeaking in fright when it reached Greyback who had curled his hands into claws and bared his sharp teeth in a mock pounce and dropped the tray of glass onto the floor.

“Nisky!” Avery could see the veins on Malfoy’s temple throb, the way his nose flared in annoyance, the clenching of fists. Dear Merlin, Malfoy was about to blow, his pureblood facade on the verge of cracking under stress. And Greybacks barks definitely were not helping the tension. 

Immediately the house-elf groveled onto the floor, shivering and apologizing, prostrating itself while bashing its head on the broken shards of glass. Avery looked away, unwilling to watch a house-elf self-flagellate itself despite the many gruesome tortures he himself had participated in. 

“Nisky, clean up the mess and leave us.” Malfoy rubbed his temple in annoyance, and summoned the remaining tumblers with his wand and personally passing it out to his guests. 

“Lucy, Lucy, don’t be such a _bore_.“ Greyback taunted when Malfoy came up to him, his dirty clawed nails tangling in Malfoy’s trademark long blonde hair, twirling it. “Loosen up! Just like our Lord and his… _fuckboy_ right now!” And slapped Malfoy on the buttocks as he passed. 

Avery wrinkled his nose at the crassness of Greyback’s entire existence. He was sure if it wasn’t for their Lord’s orders, Malfoy would have shunt and barred Greyback from his mansion. When it came for his glass, Avery gave Malfoy an eyebrow at the faintest tint of pink on his features.

Was he embarrassed by the fact that their Lord was using Malfoy’s own house as a rendezvous location or the fact that it was *Harry Potter* that brazenly walked through his own door, barged through an inner circle meeting, sultrily walked up to their Lord, planted himself on their Lord’s lap and dragged their lips into a passionate open-mouthed kiss?

Merlin, Avery wished that an obliviate was possible, but he had perfected his occlumency so well that no-one could penetrate his thoughts, and it wasn’t possible to self-obliviate yourself. 

Moments after everyone in the room was nursing a drink, Lestrange piped up a suggestion. “Now that we’ve got like…” he pulled up a tempus, “an hour or two before our Lord calls us back, how about we play a game?”

“A game?” Snape drawled, his tone mocking and slow. “Are we children, Rodolphus? Are we going to debase ourselves to be the idiotic, lusty dunderheads like Potter?” 

Perhaps Lestrange was drunk after two shots, but he stared dead-straight into Snape’s eyes and replied: “Yes.”

And that was how the inner circle of their Lord’s revolutionaries was playing the muggle children’s game of Two Truths and a Lie. With a twist: every lie that was not caught, every member of the circle would drink a quarter of a shot for every person playing until there was only one member left ‘sober’. Slytherin Almighty, everyone wanted that scene washed away from their mind.

“Lucius…” Lestrange hiccuped, “don’t you have anything stronger? I don’t think this is strong enough.” Lestrange waved around his tumbler with slack fingers, the glass precariously held and on the verge of falling to its death. 

Malfoy tsked but didn’t complain. Soon enough, everyone’s tumblers were filled with a darker, muskier smelling alcohol.

“Thank you, Lucy.” Greyback purred, a rough growl emitting from his throat. “I guess it’s my turn, huh?” 

Greyback swirled his drink, face pensive as he thought. At last, he lifted his tumbler and downed it in one go before he slammed the glass onto a side table. “All righty! Let’s get this shit started.

“I’ve went about the woods hunting some mudbloods and found myself staring at the form of Lady Circe herself.

“I’ve witnessed our Lord fucking his fuckboy in the main open hallways of this beautiful grand house, leaking dirty white seed everywhere as they christened the mansion.” At this, everyone still awake groaned and took a shot of their drinks. Greyback only laughed, slapping his knees at the reactions.

“I’ve tasted one of Lucy’s white chickens, roasted it with some spice and picked from my teeth with its bones.”

Avery’s drunken-addled brain flowed like molasses, but he was damned sure that the ‘white chickens’ Greyback mentioned was the prized white peacocks Malfoy specifically bred and nurtured with his whole life. It seems like he wasn’t the only one to have thought of the connection, he made eye-contact with Snape who only sneered and raised drunken eyebrows.

Malfoy made the connection too, his eyes no longer drunk-hazed, his arm-chair screeching onto the floor–-not unlike Greyback’s in the beginning–-and jumped onto Greyback with murder in his eyes, hands outstretched with nails curled–-again like Greyback. 

“You _beast_!” Malfoy shrieked, landing on Greyback’s lap, and hands on his lapels. “Is that why when I went to count my darlings I was missing two?! Were you the one responsible for their disappearances?! Did you _murder_ my darlings?!” 

And Sweet Salazar Slytherin Almighty, images of their Lord with Potter began to overlap with Malfoy and Greyback. Oh dear, Greyback has a hand on Malfoy’s backside, getting lower by the second. Greyback’s lips were trailing down Malfoy’s neck…

Avery quickly averted his eyes, his mind has been scarred once today and he doesn’t want it to happen again. He swayed as he made a beeline to the liquor cabinet, he was too fucking sober for this shit.

**Author's Note:**

> so...since AO3 doesn't allow me to post my Tumblr link for some reason, I'm coffee-teacup on there. Come poke me and say Hi.


End file.
